


All Downhill From Here

by Brumeier



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attraction, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts out as the worst ski trip ever for Rodney, turns into the absolute best when he meets a certain Air Force Captain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Downhill From Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nagi_schwarz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/gifts).



Rodney huddled in front of the fireplace, a mug of hot chocolate cradled in his hands. He didn’t think he’d ever stop being cold. What had he been thinking, letting Jeannie talk him into tagging along? He wasn’t a winter sports person, hockey notwithstanding, and he was going to have to schedule a CT scan because he probably had a brain tumor or something. There was no other reason he’d strap on skis and go sailing down the side of a mountain.

“This seat taken?”

A tall, lanky guy dropped down next to Rodney on the overstuffed sofa. He had on distractingly tight jeans and a snug black t-shirt, a bag of ice strapped to his shoulder.

“Hell of a way to start off a long weekend,” the guy said.

“Look, no offense, but I don’t really feel like talking.” Rodney hunched further in on himself and took a swallow of hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth that spread through his belly. The cold shakes had almost stopped.

He was startled a moment later when a blanket was dropped over his shoulders. The guy had long arms, snagging the decorative throw from the adjacent chair.

“Oh. Uh, thanks.”

“You’re the guy who took the epic fall, right? Everyone’s talking about you.”

“Wonderful.” Rodney drained his cup, scalding his tongue just a little. “I’m sure everyone’s laughing about the human snowball.”

“Actually, they’re impressed you didn’t break your neck.”

They weren’t the only ones. Rodney was pretty sure they’d never find those skis. “What about you?” he asked, waving a hand at the ice.

“Snowboarding,” the guy said. “Turns out, not that similar to surfing. Not used to turning with my back foot. Wrenched my shoulder.”

“Let me guess. Adrenalin junky?”

The guy grinned, and damn. He was incredibly good-looking.

“John Sheppard. I like anything that goes over two hundred miles per hour.” He held out his uninjured arm to shake Rodney’s hand. “Do you have a name, or should I just keep thinking of you as the Bumble?”

Rodney narrowed his eyes, and shifted away from John on the couch. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

John gave a lopsided shrug. “Bumbles bounce. So do you.”

“Oh, ha ha. Very funny. I see you’re a comedian as well as a poor snowboarder.” Rodney cursed his sister and her stupid plans for a stupid family vacation. She’d thought he needed a break from work, that he was putting in too many late hours. What did she know? Like it was any less stressful to be humiliated in front of a whole mountainside full of strangers.

Ridiculously handsome strangers.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, here,” John said.

“Isn’t that how you hurt your shoulder?” Rodney shot back. He was gratified by the surprised look on John’s face, and then taken aback when he started to bray like a donkey. “Are you _laughing_? You sound like a crazy person.”

“What’s your name?” John winced and put a hand on the ice bag.

“Dr. Rodney McKay. And don’t ask me to look at your shoulder, I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“You’re a real people person. What brings you to the mountain?”

Rodney set down the empty cup and tugged the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. “My sister. She dragged me along on her family vacation, knowing full well that my four year old niece can out-ski me. What about you? Fraternity trip?”

“Not sure if I should be flattered or offended.” John smirked at him. “I’m just here for the fresh powder.”

Rodney wondered if John was one of those shiftless rich boys that just drifted from party to party, snowboarding and surfing and driving fast cars and sleeping with faster women. He’d always been too focused on his own career to find that kind of lifestyle appealing. He wanted to leave a lasting legacy.

“You know what would really warm you up?” John asked. He gave Rodney a look that might possibly be construed as lustful. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Um…” Rodney could feel his cheeks heating.

“Lunch. The restaurant here makes an excellent chowder.” But John dropped a wink, and Rodney wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Oh. Right. Lunch.” Rodney tried not to swear. He was a certified genius, but he couldn’t seem to string an intelligent sentence together. It was just lunch, for goodness sake, not an indecent proposal.

John waved over one of the resort staff. “Becca, can you find out if there’s a table available in the dining room?”

“Certainly, Captain.” Becca, wearing a hunter green polo shirt and an understated nametag, smiled at John and scurried off.

“Captain? You have a yacht or something?” That certainly fit the image in Rodney’s mind.

“Sorry, little buddy. Not that kind of captain.”

Rodney mulled that over, but really there was only one other kind of captain John could be, and in his mind’s eye he pictured the man in a military uniform. Not a playboy, then.

“Which branch?” Rodney asked.

“Air Force.”

Dress blues. Rodney could picture that all too well. Although the unruly hair certainly wasn’t regulation. It was disappointing, though. American military were far more repressed when it came to sexual relations, which meant that he was probably misreading the looks John was giving him. It was too bad, really. When it came to sex, Rodney was open to anything.

“You okay?” John asked. He looked amused.

“What? Oh, fine.”

“Captain Sheppard, there’s a table ready for you.” Becca was back, looking incredibly pleased.

“What do you say, Dr. Rodney McKay? Ready to try that chowder?” John pushed himself up off the couch with one hand, which he then held out to Rodney.

“I could eat,” Rodney replied. He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, as if handsome Air Force pilots regularly asked him to lunch. He accepted the hand up, and then found himself tongue-tied again when John held his hand longer than strictly necessary, giving it a little squeeze.

Rodney didn’t stay tongue-tied for long. He and John talked well past lunch, hanging out in the dining room right through till dinner. Jeannie stopped by to introduce herself, but they were otherwise uninterrupted. After dinner they retreated back to the sofa with Irish coffees, and talked well into the night.

And when John walked Rodney back to his room, and kissed him goodnight, Rodney was never more grateful that he sucked at skiing.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** This is for Nagi, who spent some time at a ski lodge trying to combat a migraine with thoughts of McShep.


End file.
